The Darkness In Which We are Made
by corvusdraconis
Summary: AU : Harry Potter had been prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for the power to defeat Voldemort. The demon had laughed at his paltry offer of his broom. Hermione had walked in at just the right time to make things right. He gave her up for power, but the demon sees something else in Hermione and offers her a choice. Dark!Harry [HG/SS] Rated M for a reason.
1. What Have You Done, Potter?

**A/N:** Due to shady unsure idea of ratings, this story is now only updated on Bewitching Fiction and Adult Fanfiction dot org - You can read the rest of the story on those sites using the link in my profile. The first chapter will remain here because it's still rated M. Thank you for your understanding.

You can find the rest of this story and updates at www dot bewitching-fiction dot com (shortened URL **tinyurl dot com /og5rzr9** ) and AFF org (shortened URL: **tinyurl dot com /q6mdsjc** ) **  
**

* * *

**Summary:** AU : Harry Potter believed that Voldemort had to be stopped. He truly did. He believed he had to make the ultimate sacrifice to do so. What he didn't realise was that when Darkness asks for the ultimate sacrifice, it seldom lets you pick what it will be. Dark Harry. Even darker everything else. [HG/SS]

Some of the more (cough) mature scenes in these chapters are co-authored by the lovely, **Story-Please** , because I'm pants at them. Bow to her, or bake her cookies.

 **Rated:** M for safety for mature themes, demons (come on now, they're DEMONS!), filthy language, dubious morals, and actions that are not nice no matter which way you spin them. (This will not be like my other stories. Be warned.)

 **Disclaimer:** HP world still not mine. HP characters not mine. Alas. I still play in JKR's sandbox. Rita Skeeter is still a daft cow.

 **Beta Love:** fluffpanda, Mistress of Risotto and Connoisseur of Pasta

 **A/N2:** Plot bunny inspired by one of my Pride of Portree teammates round submissions. Blame her.

* * *

 **A/N 3:** Did I mention this starts off dark and um… yeah. M rating folks! Be warned. Shady daemonic lemons. Danger!

 **In the Darkness in Which We are Made**

 _Chapter 1: What Have You Done, Potter?_

In Harry's relatively short life, he had learned many things. One, he learned that blood relations didn't mean dick for love of family; and two, Voldemort had to be stopped by any means possible.

Voldemort was the reason he had a shitty childhood. He was the reason why every person that had ever attempted to care for him had died. He was the reason that every little bit of happiness that was ever dangled infront of Harry, ripped away.

Harry clenched his hands around the dagger. He steeled his mind for what he planned to do. The circle was already drawn in tears and painted in blood runes. That part was easy. All he had to do was imagine the rat he held in his hand was Peter Pettigrew—the man who had betrayed his parents, his godfather, and the entire Order of the Phoenix. The bones were already placed: the bones of his godfather—the last person he had placed all his hopes in to have a normal life. The runes he had carefully copied from the book Hermione had been studying off of Professor Babbling and a hidden book that had been nestled deep in the restricted section.

Unlike other books in the restricted section, Harry knew the one he had copied the instructions out of had been justifiably placed under restriction. All that was contained within its pages were far more dark grey than light. The one he copied was questionable enough to warrant Aurors banging down his door.

Harry, however, was beyond caring.

The Dark Lord was a man who had sacrificed his humanity for immortality so that his power could never be questioned. Harry was simply going to meet Voldemort and fight him on equal ground. Scratch that. He was going to meet Voldemort and take everything from him, just as the Dark Lord had taken everything from him.

Harry placed a torn out page from Tom Riddle's diary and burnt it in the brazier. The acrid smoke that came off it stank of the basilisk's venom that had permeated the pages.

Harry turned the page in his notebook and read carefully.

 _"Behold my pain_

 _And hatreds seethe._

 _Tears of the innocent,_

 _To accentuate my need._

 _I call upon you,_

 _Oh Dark and eternal soul,_

 _Of power most vast,_

 _Under your control._

 _Come to me,_

 _In my circle drawn._

 _Parlay with me,_

 _As your kind agreed upon._

 _I summon you here_

 _At my request._

 _A boon of power sought_

 _Against my enemy's best._

 _Power seeks_

 _As power does._

 _Bring your gift to me_

 _And aide my cause."_

Harry draw the knife across his palm and fat scarlet droplets of his blood fell upon the brazier.

 _"With blood I call thee to my side._

 _With blood I command thee;_

 _You must comply."_

Harry winced as his blood trickled from the wound into the brazier. The heat that blasted against the stinging cut was exceedingly uncomfortable and the smoke from the brazier seemed to slither through the air like a living thing. It moved towards the circle of protection Harry had inscribed on the floor. As the mass of smoke coagulated together inside the circle, magic flashed around the edges, and the smoke was trapped within it.

The brazier rattled against the ground, sputtering, and a dark crimson sludge boiled over from it, causing Harry to stumble backwards. The sludge bubbled, sputtered, and seeped onto the floor as a set of glowing runes formed around it. They glowed faintly, looking less menacing than they felt in his head. He could feel the power radiating off them. He could feel a strong pseudo-emotion to them. It burned like hatred; so similar to the pits of fury that had filled him when Bellatrix had murdered his godfather.

The acrid smoke that was swirling in the protective circle shuddered and became heavy in the air, solidifying into a massive shape. The shape changed, grew, shrank, mutated, and transformed until a creature as dark as jet stood in the circle. Its monstrous form towered over everything in the room, the top of its head inches from the ceiling.

The demon stooped forward and leered at Harry and a dark oily saliva dripped from its exposed canines. Dark dragon-like wings unfurled; long wing spurs the length of a man's head curved wickedly from twisted wing-talons as it flexed its membranous wings. Black smoke rose from the demon's body as it completed materialising.

He snarled at him, and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that it was a he. Long curving ram's horns twisted from a beastly head that seemed to combine both carnivore and nightmare in equal amounts. His lips pulled back threateningly, exposing dagger-like teeth.

The demon took a step forward, dark oily hooves glistening in the dim candlelight. His eyes were a shining obsidian. Fire danced within the reflection on the surface of each eye. The demon snorted, a cloud of dark vapour seeped from its nostrils, and Harry smelled sulphur and brimstone in the air.

The demon shook his head. Dark oily dreads hung around his head like a mane. Metal cylinders encircled the hair clusters and clinked together as he shook his head. "What is it you want, Harry Potter?" the demon spoke in a rumbling growl. "What could possibly make you desperate enough to summon me?"

Harry stiffened as the demon reached out, but he needn't have worried. The clawed hands stopped at the edge of the protective circle Harry had inscribed on the floor. "I seek the end of Voldemort—Tom Riddle."

The demon growled. "Hire an assassin."

"I've summoned _you_!" Harry replied back, his voice rising.

There was the sound of thunder, and it took Harry a moment to realise the demon was laughing at him. "All power comes with a price," the demon rumbled. "Did you think the universe would simply hand it to you on a silver platter? Dash of salt? A smattering of insignificant blood? Did you kill someone's cat? Say a few words when you didn't have the foggiest what they really meant? Did you think that would be enough? Did you think it would be enough to broker Powers so much greater than your own?"

"Says the demon trapped in a circle!" Harry hissed, recovering some of his bravado.

"Even amongst my kind, Harry Potter," the demon answered darkly, "there are always…rules. Every level of power, has a price that must be paid."

"What is your price?" Harry demanded. "What else do you require? Voldemort must be defeated!"

"A sacrifice, Mr. Potter," the demon said darkly, his stiletto fangs dripping black saliva that was so caustic it caused the floor upon which it fell to steam. "That is what all bargains such as yours require."

"You want my soul," Harry replied. "Is that it?"

The demon's lips pulled back from his fangs in a very cruel smirk. "No, Potter," the demon said, reminding Harry of someone familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. "Your soul would be useless to me. It is already corrupt and shaping into something of its own nature."

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded. "I'm trying to save people!"

"And you're starting off marvellously, aren't you?" The demon snarled, contempt oozing from his voice. "Stealing candy from a baby so you can collect their tears to draw this pathetic circle. Imagining that rodent was a person in rat form so you could gather the malice needed to cut its throat to paint the markings on this floor—so… chivalrous. So _well meaning_."

Harry's face grew heated. "I don't have to explain myself to you," he growled. "You're a demon trapped in a circle. _I_ trapped you there. _I_ am more powerful than you!"

The demon unfurled his wings and flapped them slightly, kicking up a heated wind. The wards on the ground glowed as the demon moved within the markings, his black eyes stared into Harry's, and Harry felt a rush of heat as the creature tore into his mind, reading through his thoughts, and casting them aside like they were nothing. Harry clutched his head in agony, feeling a hundred times worse than when Professor Snape had trounced his brain staring at all his private thoughts. It made his hated ex-Potions Professor seem downright considerate in comparison.

The demon scowled at him, turning his head away, seemingly uninterested.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded. "What price will you accept to give me the power to defeat Voldemort?"

"Power does not guarantee victory," the demon replied.

" _What price_?" Harry snapped.

"It will not be in a form you think," the demon warned.

" ** _What price_**!" Harry demanded. "Answer me directly, demon!"

Soulless black eyes stared into him without pity. "A sacrifice, Mr. Potter," the demon said flatly. "Something of value— innocent of your schemes." The demon looked at Harry with disdain. "A sacrifice is required in payment for power given. How low will you fall in your quest for power, Harry Potter?"

Harry was unnerved that the demon knew his name. The sound of his name being spoken in the demon's voice was unnerving. The fact the voice came from a beastly muzzle filled with long, dagger-like fangs was even more so.

Unearthly power poured out around the demon's form, and Harry knew that it was the key to defeating Voldemort and putting an end to Tom Riddle's dreams. The thick scent of it moved things inside of him that hungered for more. To be powerful! To be able to put an end to Voldemort! To avenge his godfather, his parents— anything would be worth it.

Harry pulled out his most cherished possession from his pocket and enlarged it with a tap of his wand. He caressed the fine varnished handle as one would touch a lover. His broom was the most cherished thing in his life—the last gift of Sirius Black to his godson. Touching the broom one last time, he placed the broom into the circle of power that had formed in front of him.

The low rumbling thunder came from the demon's throat as he fanned his wings, growling as his wing spurs bumped up against the side of the protective binding circle. "You sacrifice a broom? A worthless tool of flight for those whose stunted evolution does not even give you wings? Do not insult me with such petty sacrifices, human." The demon had folded his wings across his shoulders, his talons stretched across the membrane of his wings and pulled them around himself like a cloak.

Harry flushed red. The broom was the only thing he could truly say he had a great emotional attachment to. What more could the demon want? He stared at the demon, slightly unnerved even more as the creature's soulless black eyes stared back at him. They were terribly creepy. In people, there was always this sense of soul when you looked into their eyes— a sense of life. The demon's eyes were empty or so foreign to what made a person a person that there was no comparison in which to make. It wasn't even like looking into an animal's eyes, or the strange pupils of a goat. It was like staring into the Abyss, only it didn't stare back. It devoured all who dared to look.

There was a knock on the room door, and Harry's head shot up with a jerk.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice called. "Harry, it's been over a week. Please. Will you at least talk to me? Ron said you haven't come out in days, not even to eat. Please?"

"Conceal yourself, demon!" Harry ordered.

The towering demon rumbled in amusement. "With what? A bathrobe?" The demon pointed one bony talon towards the nearby bathrobe on a hanging hook.

"Disillusion yourself! Something. Just don't let Hermione see these circles!" Harry ordered.

The demon's eyes glittered dangerously, venom dripping from his teeth in slow, slimy globules. "And what do I get out of it?" The demon obviously didn't care at all whether he was seen in all of his daemonic glory, and that included his very obvious maleness.

"What do you want?" Harry snapped.

"Your sacrifice," the demon purred.

"Harry, who are you talking to?" Hermione's voice came through the closed doorway. Her voice sounded more frantic as she pounded on the door.

"Fine!" Harry hissed. "You can have my sacrifice as soon as I can get you one. Hide yourself!"

"Harry! Who are you talking to?" Hermione's voice demanded again, more frantically, her fist pounding even harder on the door.

"Do you swear it?" The demon asked, black vapour swirling out of his nostrils.

"I swear it!" Harry yelled.

With a crash, the door to the room burst open, and Hermione strode in. Her wand was in her hand, and her hair was flying in all directions as though she had put her hand into a Muggle electrical socket. She huffed, her frustration, worry, and anger met in once place as she panted at him. " _Harry_!" she huffed, exasperated. "Who the bloody hell were you talking to?" She looked around the room, noting the lit candles, bowls of salt, and miscellaneous artifacts. "Harry?"

Harry looked over to where the demon's circle was, and saw it was no longer there, at least to the naked eye. Both circles were invisible. Only his cast off broom lay in the middle next to the tipped over brazier. He sighed with relief and went to his knees, clenching his hands on the floor as though he were grasping a rug.

"I…" Harry stammered. "I just wanted to talk to him again, Hermione," he lied into the ground, making it so his face was hidden from her sight. "He was the only family I had left and his own flesh and blood killed him."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione rushed over to him, putting her arms around his shoulders. She rubbed his back sympathetically. "I know you miss him, Harry. We all miss him. Professor Lupin, he—he just stares off into space when someone mentions his name. You can't dwell too long on it, Harry, please."

"I just," Harry whined. "I wanted to know I had his blessing, you know? Before we go hunting Horcruxes."

Hermione gazed at him sympathetically. "He loved you, Harry. I know he'd support you for this quest for the Horcruxes. Ron supports you too, and so do I."

"You promise?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Of course, I promise, Harry," Hermione said adamantly. "That's what friends do, help each other."

Harry took Hermione into an embrace. He pressed his face into her hair and stared off to the place the demon had been standing. His lips flattened in a line as he stroked Hermione's hair, tugging a few strands of her air and casually throwing it towards the smoldering brazier. It sputtered, and a dark red smoke rose from its depths. "For the greater good, right Hermione?" Harry whispered.

Hermione pulled away from him and nodded with a small smile.

Harry sighed softly and forced himself to smile. "Could you get my broom from over there? I think I've done enough thinking of the past. It's time to think of the future."

Hermione squeezed his shoulder. "Sure, Harry."

Hermione pushed herself off the ground and brushed the dust and debris off her clothes. "Is this ash, Harry? What were you burning down here?"

"Something of Sirius'," Harry answered. It wasn't quite a lie.

Hermione looked at him with pity, turned, and walked towards the broom. She reached down to pick it up, and froze as a strange sensation slid over her. Unbeknownst to her, she had stepped into the ritual circle.

The runes and the blood-red circle flashed to life, forcing Hermione into the centre. She dropped the broom in her panic and tried to escape the circle in vain. "Harry? Harry! Something is wrong! Harry, help me!"

Harry gave a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said after a moment. "It's for the greater good."

"The greater—?" Hermione's words trailed off as her eyes grew even wider.

"Voldemort must be stopped," Harry explained. He brushed his hands off over the nearby brazier and red smoke rose from it. "He has to pay...for everything."

Hermione slammed her fist against the invisible circle, but the runes flashed, trapping her inside, and she stared at Harry in complete disbelief. "No, Harry! No!" Her eyes scanned the room and she could see everything that had been hidden before. She stared at the open diagram on the nearby table, the ash, the now glowing circle under her, and the lit candles in very specific positions. "Harry—"

 _"The sacrifice is made,_

 _the covenant kept._

 _My gift for the power,_

 _if you should accept."_

Somehow, Harry kept his voice steady as he spoke the words. It was done. There was no going back.

Hermione screamed. She screamed so loudly that Harry winced. A part of him had hoped that her death would be instantaneous to spare her the pain. But even he knew that nothing was ever that easy when bargaining with a demon.

Her body buckled in pain. Tremors tore through her. Invisible cutting winds swirled around her, shedding her skin and spreading wide arcs of blood onto the circle below. Black, acrid smoke rose up from the circle and wove around Hermione's body like a giant snake, and then, just as suddenly, her screams cut out completely.

Hermione lay in the circle, her blank eyes staring into Harry as though she could see him, but she did not blink, nor did she breathe. Tendrils of black ichor were rising from circle below her. It crawled over her skin as though it were an army of ants. Smoke rose from her body as the ichor spread over her, seeping into her skin, into her wounds, and under her tattered clothes.

The blackness flowed over her, inching over every bit of her skin like an obscene caress. It seemed to be exploring her, embracing her, and supporting her as her body was suspended in the air all the same time. It flowed into her nostrils, her ears, her open mouth, and her pores. Hermione's body spasmed, her muscles jerking as though she was a puppet guided by invisible strings. And finally, her body stood in the circle, blank eyes staring off into space.

The demon's circle flashed, and the great creature unfurled his wings. His muzzle twisted into a snarl as oily, black, viscous liquid dripped from his bared fangs. "Your sacrifice is accepted, Harry Potter."

The runes for protection and binding flashed from underneath the demon, but this time the demon's eyes smoldered and his wings fanned out. Energy shards broke around the circle and went flying outward like thousands of pieces of shattered glass and smashed into the circle that enclosed Hermione. He remained in his circle, but he reached out an arm, his talons extended towards the other circle. His fingers beckoned as one would gesture someone over for a secret, and Hermione took awkward steps towards the demon's circle. The demon growled, caustic drool dripping from his mouth. He held out his arms like a lover, and Hermione was dazedly walked straight to him.

"Come to me, my pet," the demon rumbled. "Come and let me adore you."

Harry fidgeted with discomfort as Hermione walked straight into the demon's range, and the moment her hand passed into the circle to grasp its extended talons, the demon pulled her inside with him.

The demon's lips pulled back from its teeth as he breathed into her face. He exhaled a dark mist, and Hermione breathed it in, her expression going utterly peaceful with a hint of something else Harry couldn't place. The demon's hands roamed wickedly down the length of Hermione's body, sliding ardently under the tattered remains of her clothing.

Hermione's eyes fluttered and she moaned softly.

The demon's nostrils flared, his eyes widening as his long tongue emerged from his mouth and licked at his teeth. "Unspoiled," he growled. "I shall be your first, your best, and the only one whose touch you'll crave. Your hunger for me shall be eternal."

The demon covered her mouth with his muzzle, his tongue sliding into hers with a grotesque slithering sound. His talons wove into her hair, drawing her head back. She moaned as one of his claw-like hands sheathed their claws and moved almost tenderly over her breasts and her voice made a whimpering sound of unconcealed need.

A musky scent filled the air as the demon continued his ministrations. Harry felt woozy as his body filled with a frantic feeling of arousal. Without thinking, his hand drifted downward to press against the ache in his pants. Need filled him. Lust clouded his head. He watched the demon's long-fingered hands roam over Hermione's body, coaxing lust-filled whimpers and moans out of her.

Harry panted softly, his hand shaking as he slipped it through the waistband of his trousers to stroke the erection underneath. Heat was spreading through his body and he couldn't control it. Part of him didn't want to.

Hermione's mouth was open as she groaned with need, her skin flushed with arousal. The demon's tongue laved firmly at the sensitive skin at her throat, coating her in black daemonic saliva, which moved across her skin as though alive. The dark wetness ran over the surface of her skin absorbing almost instantly into it. Each time it did so, Hermione's body arched, twitched, and she pressed closer into the demon's heated embrace.

The demon's rumbling chuckle sent a shudder through Harry. It was as though both fire and ice were chasing each other across every nerve of his body. Listening to Hermione's wet, needful cries only made it worse. He wanted to look away, but he also wanted to watch. He stroked himself, both hating himself and enjoying the sensation in equal measure

The demon pulled back from Hermione's mouth and smiled as he watched the pitch black ichor trickling from the corner of her mouth. Even on his beastly inhuman muzzle, the expression was malevolent and triumphant.

"Give in to me, lover," the demon purred to Hermione.

Her expression was far away. If a part of her was struggling, it was all inside her head. Her body was trembling, and her lips were slightly parted as her breaths came a little faster.

"Chaos and war shall be our marriage bed. Blood and tears shall christen our children," he purred, his talons stroking her cheek softly as he lowered his muzzle to her mouth once more. Dark venom dripped from his teeth as even darker smoke swirled from his nostrils with every breath. "We shall be one… eternal, my… demon… queen."

Hermione whimpered as he caressed her hair, and his long and unnaturally lithe tongue slipped into her mouth causing her to buckle in his embrace and moan.

"Let me inside of you, Hermione," he breathed into her ears, "and I shall remake you from within."

Hermione moaned as his tongue slide deeper inside her until his muzzle completely covered her mouth. Dark venom dripped down her chin, slithering across her skin as their kiss deepened. His talons softened into abnormally long fingers as they slid between her thighs, seeking her pleasure, and Hermione bucked into his body involuntarily, eyes widening and her pupils engulfed her irises.

"Ssssay yesss, my lover," the demon purred into her mouth, his tongue sliding up against her cheek and teasing the skin around and inside her ear. "Become one with me and be reborn."

Harry threw himself against the protective circle, finally understanding what was going to happen, but it was far too late. "Hermione! No!"

"Yesss," Hermione whispered so softly it was barely a breath.

The demon rumbled with malicious laughter, eyes shining with victory. The sharp talons on his free hand ripped a line down her shredded clothing as though unzipping a zipper, freeing her body until she stood nude at his side.

"You are mine, Hermione," the demon purred, pulling her against him as his wings unfurled and wrapped around the witch's body. "Forever."

The last thing Harry heard before Hermione's voice was drowned out in a low, lustful moan was, "yours."

"A sacrifice is required in payment for power given," the demon's voice called out, laughing deeply. "It was not you who made the sacrifice, Harry Potter. It was her."

The demon's laughter, equal velvet and venom, rang in Harry's ears as the wet sounds of the demon consummating his bond to his new mate filled the room and left Harry a panting, desperate heap of desire, need, revulsion, and lust.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 **A/N:** Yeah so… this story chapter was a first for me. I hope I didn't send any of you screaming into the night. I did warn you. This is not like anything I have ever written before… and it will remain both dark and… well whatever you classify demons as.


	2. Entirely New Species & New Author's Note

**A/N (updated):** Due to some quandary and debate on whether this story fits under the M rating for ff dot net, this story has been moved to Bewitching Fiction and Adult Fanfiction dot org - You can read the rest of the story (and future updates) on those sites using the link in my profile.

You can find the rest of this story and updates at www dot bewitching-fiction dot com (shortened URL **tinyurl dot com /og5rzr9** ) and AFF org (shortened URL: **tinyurl dot com /q6mdsjc** )

* * *

 **A/N:** There is this obnoxious robin singing his heart away outside my window… at 0344… It makes me want to do horrible, horrible things. Puts me in the perfect mindset for this story. LOL.

In case you missed this in the previous chapter, this story is undeniably AU. Due to some obvious plot twists, characters are going to be OOC to canon. Though, the moment you see Dark!Harry in the Author Notes, that should be given. This is a very Dark _what-if_ story.

This chapter has been modified from it's original form due to the M rating for FF dot net.

 **Beta love** : fluffpanda, the Mistress of Ricotta and Connoisseur of Pasta

 **Helper of Naughty Bits:** Story Please

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Entirely New Species**

The pain had been excruciating after being trapped in the sacrificial circle. However, it was only physical; her body would soon learn to forget that pain. The pain of being betrayed by her best friend, Harry Potter, however, ripped through her soul on a different plane. Betrayal seemed like too kind of a word to describe what Harry Potter had done to her. He had, technically, murdered her and sacrificed her up to a demon for a promise of power.

She had fully expected to die there within the ritual, but the very daemonic magic that had stopped her heart had also filled it with one last bit of revenge that she hadn't even asked for: life. It had been just enough life to sustain her walk into the arms of the demon that Harry had summoned to grant him power over Voldemort.

The demon's voice echoed within her brain, asking her if she wanted to live. Of course she wanted to live. Who would desire to die in a forgotten room, unknown and unmourned?

From the moment the demon's heated breath filled her lungs, she felt more at peace and accepting of her fate. She found herself looking deep into the demon's pitch black eyes and saw something moving within them. They were foreign, out of the world even. They were the furthest from Earthly she had ever seen. She felt him exploring her mind, filtering through her memories, focusing on the most painful and the most embarrassing.

At first it was humiliating, but the demon drank in the pain and the embarrassment, leaving her with the fuzzy sense of _Obliviation_ and knowing there was something she once felt horrible about but couldn't quite remember what it was.

Part of her mind could not help but compare it to the Dementors and their hunger for emotional pain, but she heard the demon scoff in her mind. Dementors were nubile, crude, and hungry like babies. Dementors did not savour. Dementors had no inclination or power to give something back in return for a glorious feed. The demon drank in her awkwardness, her feelings of social inadequacy, her sense of feeling used for her ability to get things done so others could go out and play, and deeply hidden feelings of being a failure. He left her with a pleasant warmth of nothingness, but, coupled with that moment and the strangely pleasurable feel of his hand roaming down the length of her body, she felt the stirring of passion that she never knew existed within her body.

Never had a simple caress caused her to re-evaluate every reality she had known until that point. The feel of his warm, unnatural, yet talented tongue caressed the inside of her mouth as it transferred even more of the dark black ichor from his mouth to hers. She whimpered as he withdrew, taking time to move his claws to lift her clothes and make lazy circles over her breasts. She instinctively arched into them, gasping as his talons gently grazed the swell of her breast. The demon's tongue lapped the side of her throat, coating her skin slick with his saliva. Her skin tingled as the black saliva slithered over her, absorbing into her skin, sending waves of pleasure rippling down her spine and up into her brain.

The demon purred into her ear, his tongue tracing the sensitive area around her lobe and then plunging into it. Hermione cried out, breathing heavily as her hips ground out on a quest for something she couldn't quite fathom. His warm hands guided her seeking fingers over his body, encouraging her to explore the landscape of his slick skin.

"Will you accept me, to be my lover? he whispered. His voice was like molten caramel. "Do you want this?"

He pulled away just enough to place his talons against her cheeks, his dark, alien eyes boring into her, waiting for her consent.

"We shall be one for eternity," he purred. "Bound as the world falls to ruin. We will feast on the turmoil of humanity, rejoice in their selfish paths to damnation, and build our court around their misguided ideals."

Hermione's eyes fluttered. "How? I'm not— "

The demon's tongue slid across his teeth, and the very sight of it made her weak in the knees. "Through me, you shall be reborn," he answered. "All that is required… is a willing participant."

"Ooooh," she breathed as his muzzle parted, allowing thick ichor to slowly escape from between his multitude of fangs. It seemed to defy gravity, pausing in its fall to move towards her like the legs of a hungry spider.

Her ears vaguely heard Harry screaming her name, but it gently buzzed in her auditory canal. There was something about Harry— something she should remember… but the thought was gone soon after. What she really wanted was that kiss that seemed to be hovering in wait for her invitation.

"Please," she begged. "Make me yours."

The demon's tongue slide out, teasing the button of her lip, the blackness rippled behind it in anticipation. "You accept my gift, Hermione? Of your own free will?"

Hermione trembled, her mouth opened in invitation. "Yessssss," she moaned huskily.

The demon's low rumble of approval rolled over her as his invaded her open mouth with his tongue, stroking her throat with his talons as he filled her mouth with the dark oily beginning of his gift to her.

It was the second time in less than a few minutes she had fully expected to die. The demon, however, had other, more intimate plans. And as the demon's attention upon her sent a kind of pleasure through her that she had never known in her life, the pain of that circle was replaced with a new sort of hunger that had nothing to do with revenge and everything to do with enjoying her unexpected first lover's masterful, seeking touch.

It felt so good. It felt so right that from the moment his touch left her skin, she felt an ache deep inside her. It left her panting, moaning, and gasping for more. Never had her body felt such a wonderful rapture at another's touch. Each time she whimpered as his touch receded, she could feel the demon's approval to her newly awakened needs. His tongue slid into her mouth, and it was oh so welcome. She felt it slither against her tongue and the delicious friction combined with the remarkable taste of the demon's even more peculiar saliva. Its consistency seemed to change for her, becoming even more delectable.

The demon's hand drifted lower on her body, and her hips shifted, parting her thighs in response. It was instinctive on her part, but the demon rewarded her by sliding his hand between her legs and touching her in a place that made a different kind of bliss fill her and an equally fierce need— a need she hadn't even realised she had on parts of herself she had never deigned to explore on herself before.

Gone were the concerns of her plans for her parents before they took off on the Horcrux hunt. Gone were the concerns for Bill and Fleur's wedding, wistful wishes that Ron would pull his head out of his ass and pay attention to her, worry about Voldemort, and even any concern she may have still harbored for the enslavement of the House-elves. None of it mattered. None of it was important as the warmth of the demon's heated kisses, passionate touches of skin against skin, and the almost loving worship of her body by the demon's attentive hands, mouth, and everything in between. She realised she had no idea what love really was, but if whatever he was giving her wasn't love, she was willing to accept it as a more than adequate substitution.

Any revulsion she may have had that her lover was the furthest thing from human had been lost somewhere between the first brush of his fingers against the small of her back and the entrance of his warm, seeking tongue into her mouth. She mewled as he pulled away, hungry for more, and every little sound she made seemed to please him.

She had never lain with a boy or man nor had she tread the line of heteroflexibility as the Muggle buzzword seemed to be. Others often called her "Virgin Gryffindor" behind her back. She had shared a handful of tender kisses with Viktor before distance had put the skewer through that relationship. She knew many of the other witches of her age group and even younger had more experience than she had, but all of that seemed a moot point now. The demon sent trails of fire down her body like nothing she could have dreamed, and his hands guided hers over his body with the patience of a teacher giving remedial lessons. She absorbed the new knowledge like she had everything else in school, learning from his hands-on instruction with the same passion she had for reading a new book.

Hermione panted heatedly as the demon wrapped around her with his body, his wings undulated around her as he finally slid inside of her. Every nerve she had was racing their combined signals to her brain as her heart beat ever more frantically. His touch was everywhere, and she rewarded him by instinctively bucking against his body with moans of ecstasy growing in urgency as their bodies connected in the most intimate of places.

"That's it, love," the demon growled in her mind. "Cast aside those insignificant thoughts. Let them all slip away."

The demon was, oddly enough, gentle. His ministrations were bringing her to the edge of the Abyss, but he was not rough with her. He did not force anything. Her body was responding all on its own. Her mind could barely see through the red haze of passion, lust and desire that the demon had spread across her body, and she was pretty sure fireworks danced behind her eyelids with every thrust of his body against hers. She panted after a while, snuggling into the welcoming heat of her lover's body as the tremors worked through her body, tiny electrical shocks coursing through her nerves and spreading through every bit of her, and she wanted more.

"Hermione," the demon whispered, the sound of her name through his muzzle of glistening fangs set off a chain of shivers from her head down to her toes. "Join your name with mine that none may use it against us."

Hermione was groaning again, her hands curving into clawed shapes as she scratched his back with every thrust. A name? Of course… every demon had a name. Idiot. But his name? How would she have known his name?

As her body arched, trickles of sound formed into incoherent syllables, but began to change into something more. There was Power in a name. You could call a demon by its name and bind to a circle to parlay. But if that demon were to join their name and their power to another, their names would combine. It would change their essence, and break them of their bonds of fealty. They would evolve.

She realised in a strange euphoric epiphany that demons did not seek the destruction of other demons, at least, no demons of the same species. They did not use their names against each other because in order to create another demon, they didn't just share Power. They shared their names. It was the unspoken Law. No matter what chaos they sowed amongst other species, demons did not raise hand against another demon. When the conditions were right, demons paired off when their names were shared, They joined with another permanently, increasing their power-base. I was all about influence and power outside of each demon species.

The strange knowledge swirled in her head with the demon's request that they combine the power of their names. The part of Hermione Granger was flailing her arms frantically and telling her demons could not be trusted. They were demons! They were monsters! They were more evil than… than…

Who was she trying to remember?

There was a desperate whimpering sound, and she realised it was her.

Of course she would join her name with his. To join their names would broker their freedom from the accursed circle. They would complete each other. They would be free to leave on their own terms.

" S….sss…." she gasped, her fingers clawing his back. They were elongating, twisting, curving, and darkening. As a multitude of moaning, pleasured sounds escaped her throat, her body shook. "S…. ssevv….rus," she moaned. "Severus," she repeated with a scream, but it was not a scream of pain. Her mouth was elongating, teeth jerking up from their roots as they twisted and reformed. Blood trickled from her gums, and her drool was thickening and dripping from her teeth and her open mouth in a strange, darkening liquid. She knew his name, and it was like beautiful music, calling to her like a Siren's song. He called out her name, and at that moment, she wanted to merge her body with his. Instead, the energy and Power bound to their names, and their names blended together. Every jolt of pleasure from their combined exertions tightened the bond and wove the very fabric of the demon that was Severus to the demon Hermione was becoming.

All because of Harry Potter.

In her head, she could feel her lover's knowledge flowing into her mind. Demon children were frightfully rare, which was a good thing for the human race. Finding mates was also complicated for demons. Demons could use humans all day long, even have sex with them, but such couplings did not provide viable offspring— only a demon to demon pairings could ever provide demon "children," and it took many, many attempts under the "right conditions" for such couplings to come to fruition. Moon phases, places of mass death, and so many more humanly detestable things went into possibly allowing two demons to get lucky enough to fertilise a viable embryo.

One way, however, that a demon could create another demon, was when one idiot mortal used the ancient spell of summoning and called a demon to their aid to give them power. Somewhere in the magical equivalent of fine print, the demon had the option to take the sacrifice and instead of killing them— turn them by "sharing" their essence with the victim. If the victim succumbed to the change, they became a demon. The original demon had to want to for whatever reason, and the victim had to be willing for whatever reason. Consent was the binding factor.

Young Severus Snape had been lured to the Dark Lord's service once upon a time. The Dark Lord had Marked him, treated him like he was important to the future, the threw him into a hidden sacrificial circle… just as Harry Potter had done to Hermione.

The summoned demon had taken a good feed off Severus' multiple layers of bitterness and betrayal as well as the young man's despair. She had given Severus Snape the offer of Power, broken and damaged Severus had accepted, and he had turned in the demon's heated embrace just as Hermione was in his.

The knowledge that Severus' demon had turned him and left him focused her. Was that to be her fate as well to be cast into the wind of her own mechanisations? Would she be cast away like refuse by her best friend only to be cast aside again by this demon that both was and was not the Professor Snape she thought she had known?

Demon Severus' wings shifted around her, and his embrace surrounded her. She was pulled ever tighter against his warmth that should have been suffocating but instead was as welcome as a quilt on a wintery day. He whispered her name against her ear, and she breathed his name once more. The dark bond between them tightened. His tongue slid into her mouth, slithering against hers. He drove away the doubt and her deeper into the passion that was transforming her from within.

"Mine," he rumbled, his teeth grasping the sensitive flesh of her neck.

"Yours," she replied dreamily. To belong— to truly belong— wouldn't it be marvelous?

"Forever," the demon rumbled, sinking his fangs into her neck to leave his Mark upon her. His wings fanned outward and caused a rush of heat to explode outward.

She bucked against him, eyes rolling back in her head, and when they returned back into position, they were completely black. "Forever," she purred and screamed as giant wings sprouted forth from her back, tearing out from the skin over her shoulder blades with a loud ripping sound. Membrane grew between the bony eruptions, covering the new bone, tendons, and muscle that seemed to slither across the growing bone.

Her head tilted back as her muzzle thrust outward even further, her half-formed fangs jerking outward and upward into long stiletto daggers. Dark caustic drool dripped from her lips as they pulled back from her teeth. She struck like a viper, sinking her newly formed fangs into her lover's neck, claiming him as he had claimed her.

Severus roared, his arms pinning her to his body, his hand pinning her head to his neck to encourage the mutual acceptance of their connection.

As she pulled away, black ichor dripping from her mouth, Severus rumbled his approval at the hastening of her change. "Show me how beautiful you are, my mate," he crooned, descending upon her muzzle for a kiss. "Allow me to adore you."

And she did.

If it wasn't love, it was a damn good start.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry had a few problems. One, he could barely feel his legs, and two, his pants were far too tight against his impending erection. There was a three hanging around somewhere, if he could just keep his mind off the fact that even after stroking his cock to completion, it was still painfully hard.

His mind was slowly coming out of the lust-induced haze, and the air was thick with the musky scent of sex. He recognised it from the few times he stumbled over Ron hitting multiple bases with Lavender Brown in the broom closet. Harry had actually been looking for a sweeping broom each time, so the embarrassment had been quite epic.

He shook his head with a groan and pulled himself off the floor with a combination of shame, embarrassment, and exhaustion. The most he could hope for, now that his dastardly deed of sacrificing his best friend to a demon, was that he managed to wrangle the demon into serving him long enough to defeat Voldemort. That had been the intention all along. He had planned on sacrificing his broom to the demon, seeing as it was the only thing he truly believed he loved, but Hermione's arrival at the wrong time had been perfect timing to be Harry's bargaining chip.

Everything he had read told him that demons, in exchange for being freed from the circle that trapped them, would be bound to the summoner for given amount of time. What he had no idea was how long that time was, but he was convinced that with the power of a demon, going against Voldemort would be significantly easier much faster.

Harry saw the large shadow move in the circle. Cruel teeth glistened in a bared grimace. One large wing unfolded. Nestled against his body was the unmoving body of Hermione. The demon had killed her after all.

"What is it you want, Harry Potter?" the demon rumbled. his talons cradling Hermione's body to him like a lover.

"I want you to help me defeat Voldemort," Harry said.

"I'm a little busy," the demon replied. He nuzzled into Hermione's neck, his tongue sliding across her skin like a lion would groom another lion.

Harry flinched. He watched as the demon shifted Hermione in his wing, revealing the blood stained inner thighs, cock still hard and cradled within Hermione. The damn demon not only killed Hermione, but violated her in ways unspoken.

"I will let you out of the circle if you agree to help me!" Harry snapped.

"We can only set about specific tasks," the demon rumbled, continuing to groom Hermione's skin. "And only those tasks to which a price has been agreed and no other demon is involved."

"Fine," Harry agreed.

The demon paused his grooming of Hermione's neck.

The demon's dark eyes bored into him, his lips pulling back from his dripping fangs. "One year's time hence, starting on the new moon nearest, when summoned, we shall answer. If the price is paid, we shall serve. One year's time this agreement make, lest you deny us thrice."

The demon's lips curled further back, black caustic drool dripped down from his fangs and sizzled against the floor. "Use it wisely."

"Agreed," Harry said.

The demon stood to his full height, cradling Hermione's body in his arms. His huge wings unfurled and flapped, sending heated wind in small cyclones around the room. He stared into Harry, a low growl rumbling through the room.

The demon traced some sort of mark on Hermione's palm with his caustic drool and it sank into her skin.

Harry clutched his hand in pain. A glowing fire brand pulsed on his palm, glowing with unnatural fire that both burned and froze at the same time.

"The covenant has been agreed," the demon rumbled. "Release us from this circle."

Harry hissed in pain, his hand still burning. He staggered over to the circle and brushed his hand over the markings, breaking the magical lines.

At first, nothing happened. The demon just stared into Harry with his unnerving soulless eyes. Suddenly the demon was laughing. There was a crashing of thunder and the demon disappeared into a swirl of acrid black smoke. "See you soon, Harry Potter."

Harry stared into the empty circle with relief. It was done. Soon he would be able to defeat Voldemort.

His thoughts came to a halt as he remembered the demon said he would have to summon him and he had forgotten to ask him how.

"Fuck," Harry yelled into the darkened room. He turned within the room, kicking knocking over the various items he had used in his ritual, finally looking at his Firebolt, and what he had used to sacrifice his Hermione to that demon.

Hermione. For the greater good.

Harry knew it had to be done. Hermione would understand that. Hermione had died for a good cause, even if Harry had ultimately tricked her into it.

The demon had done something to her and him.

He still felt the pressure and need of his arousal lower in his body, and it painfully reminded him what he had done to Hermione, and how he had witnessed Hermione's body being violated by that demon. Harry punched the wall in frustration. Hermione had been his best friend from the day he saved her from that giant Troll in the bathroom.

He looked down at his hands, covered in ashes, dust and black goop. He began the slow walk towards the fifth floor Prefect's bathroom to clean up, thankful that Ron had let the monthly password slip out in one of his bragging session.

Harry slipped his body into the steaming shower, hissing as the cold water made contact with his body. He couldn't understand why he was still aroused. He had just witnessed the death of his friend, violated by the demon and here he was sporting an erection from Hermione's rape.

He tried to shut out the memory of the demon's hands roaming across Hermione's body as she melded into the demon's dark embrace. As disgusted as he knew he _should_ feel, he could stop thinking about it. There was something attractive about it.

How could he feel this way towards her? He was in love with Ginny. Ginny was his one true love.

Images of Ginny's red hair spread across his chest that one time they had snuck into an unused classroom and they both hesitantly explored through a gentle mist of lust.

Harry's hands moved over himself, trying desperately to relieve the pressure and need within him for relief.

"Hermione!" Harry let the forbidden name slip from his mouth as shuddered with pleasure, mortified that it was not Ginny, but rather Hermione that had taken him to this euphorical moment, a moment he had yet to share with Ginny.

He looked around frantically and closed his eyes as he tried to focus his thoughts. He let out a groan of frustration.

"Mmmm… you called?" a voice purred. It was both familiar and not. It was both terrifying and sensual. It was like the smell of broom polish and sweat during a Quidditch game.

Harry's eyes widened, and he threw his arms around himself and covered his exposed bits with a soap bar. "Hermione?"

"Oh, don't stop on my account, Harry," she purred, picking up a bar of soap and running it across her arms. The fall of the shower water sent rivulets of soapy trickles over her very nude skin.

Harry gaped at her.

Hermione stepped out from under the nearby shower, obsidian hooves making a strange clopping sound as she closed the space between them. Her bushy hair was distinctive, but her lips pulled back from dagger-like teeth filling a muzzle that was both monstrous and alien. A long, unnatural tongue slid out between her dripping fangs, licking across her darkened lips. Long, black wings fell across her shoulders like a cape, coming together with entwined wing spurs. Two curling ram's horns twisted from her skull and curved both backwards and forwards.

She ran the soap bar across her breasts with a sensual motion, using one finger to trace her mammaries. She licked her finger with her head tilted to the side, allowing her tongue to wrap around it very, very suggestively. "I should be mad, you know," she said, her voice was a rumble of distant thunder-alien and threatening.

"Her—"

"Shh, Harry," Hermione said, putting one clawed talon to her muzzle. Dark black ichor oozed from her mouth. "Don't tell me — the _greater good_?"

"Voldemort has to be stopped!" Harry tried to protest.

The demon that Hermione stared at him with soulless black eyes. She licked her teeth, and Harry felt a shudder of desire shiver through him and he hated himself for it.

"You've been a very… naughty… best friend, Harry," Hermione's voice purred both velvet and venom. "Murderous even."

"Wh...what are you doing here?" Harry stammered.

"You called me, Harry Potter," she said matter of factly. "I do hope you have something to request. I was having the most wonderful time," she said, pausing to smile wickedly, "getting to know myself."

Harry Potter paled as he realised that the demon he would be forced to look in the eye every time he had a request would the best friend he had murdered for power.

"Cat got your tongue?" Hermione asked. He was right up next to him, her talons gripping the sides of his jaw as she looked into his mouth. "No? Still there?"

"Please, Hermione," Harry stammered. "Can we talk later? Not here?"

Hermione's bestial face twisted into a pout. "Oh? That's your first request of me?" she neared him, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine. "What will you give me in return?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 **A/N:** It's only beginning for poor Harry. One should know better than to summon demons and not know exactly what to say or ask.


End file.
